


Art of Bureaucracy

by Shujinkakusama



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Based on a Tumblr Post, Closeted Character, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pregnancy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shujinkakusama/pseuds/Shujinkakusama
Summary: When Pearl's credits don't transfer in time for the new semester at her new college, she winds up saddled with a class completely counterintuitive to her Computer Sciences major. Whose idea was it to put her in Drawing 101?! Professor Rose Quartz ought to sort this immediately!Who's Pearl trying to kid, she'll gladly take an elective outside her major if it means staring at Rose Quartz for four hours a week. Rose Quartz's mysterious younger cousin, Essie, does not help her stay on task. In fact, the only one who's even remotely helpful is her childhood best friend, Garnet, who is no less distracting than the rest of them! What's a girl to do surrounded by all these beautiful women? And why is Amethyst always in her underwear? // Human AU, silly college fic, lots of fluff, endgame undecided. Some ships aren't quite spotlighted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try another fic I've been kicking around for a few... months? Mostly keeping it lighthearted and silly, mind the dust, I haven't been in college in many years. May contain art as I get momentum!

College was a stressful time for all students, freshman on up to seniors, and Pearl Jules was no exception. She was only technically a freshman—not all of her credits had transferred over from her previous institution, and there was some contention about which courses had been taken out of this school’s preferred order—but all the same, at twenty-years-old, here she was, looking down at her class schedule on a crisp autumn morning, at her new school, very, very confused.

 

And something was drastically not right.

 

Pearl scowled down at the paper—she hadn’t worn her glasses to school that day—in absolute disbelief. This couldn’t be real. She was a computer engineer.

 

What in the world had possessed her counselor to put her in _Drawing 101_?

 

She intended to waste no more time on wondering, however. Action was needed, and first things first, she would have to talk to her professor. Whoever this Professor Rose Quartz was would surely notice the error and help her take steps to rectify it. She could see her counselor en lieu of attending the class today, and—

 

Two steps into the messy art room, all hope of adjusting her schedule went out the window.

 

Professor Rose Quartz was an impressively large woman, with tightly curled hair dyed a dusky pink, and a white apron smudged with who-knew-what. She was taller than any woman Pearl had ever seen—nearly seven feet tall, at least!—and when she looked down, she was astounded to see that she was _barefoot_.

 

It wasn’t love at first sight, but Pearl didn’t really know what else to call the way her heart trip-hammered in her chest, or the way the rest of the world faded away for a brief moment. Pearl couldn’t move; she couldn’t think; she was completely still and somewhat blatantly awestricken.

 

When the professor turned toward her, Pearl felt her breath escape in a rush, and she very suddenly didn’t know what she was doing with her schedule out. The plump woman smiled, bustling over to greet the poor, lost-looking girl in the doorway. “Welcome to my class! I’m Rose Quartz—is that your schedule? You look a little lost,” she babbled merrily, and Pearl automatically offered the paper to her, feeling color creep into her pale cheeks. “Pearl, is it? What a lovely name!”

 

When Rose Quartz laughed, it sounded like _bells_ , and Pearl suddenly believed in those ridiculous love stories her sisters liked to read. Her throat ran dry, and she barely managed to nod, and there was no doubt in her mind that she must have been beet-red by now. “I’m—“ she tried, and her voice was small, “Supposed to be in this class? Apparently? I must have had an elective spot open, because you see, I’m a comp sci major, and—“

 

“Oh! And you wanted to try art as well?” Rose asked, dark eyes practically shining. “We need the extra bodies, turnout this semester is so small!”

 

Pearl knew before she opened her mouth that she would be doomed, but she nodded meekly and sealed her fate. “I’m… in the right place, then?”

 

“Absolutely! Here, here, sit down at an easel. I’ll get you your syllabus,” Rose said merrily, and she hurried away to fish out a pink sheet. Pearl swallowed hard as she moved to take a seat, altogether uncertain of what to make of her classmates—all of which had certainly witnessed her embarrassing display.

 

Fortunately enough, there were only a handful of other students actually present. A blue-haired girl was lounging against the wall while someone else sketched her in Conté crayon. Pearl floundered briefly, before catching sight of another woman with pink-dyed hair, who was gesturing toward her neighboring easel. She took the hint, joining the stranger despite her piercings and what appeared to be a tattoo on one arm.

 

“Freshman?” the woman asked, and Pearl nodded reluctantly, staring down at the supplied easel and newsprint as if she had never seen either in her life.

 

“Something like that,” she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. “My classes didn’t transfer in time, and—I’m sorry, you probably aren’t interested in hearing it.”

 

Darker-skinned than Rose Quartz, but no less beautiful, the other woman grinned at her. “I don’t mind. You look like a fish out of water,” she said, “But at least you’re with your tribe, yeah?”

 

“What? What does that—“

 

“Here you go!” Rose Quartz chimed, returning with the syllabus and a fresh pack of Conté crayons. “You’ll need more later in the semester, of course; these are from my art box. But I know how the student store takes days to actually get the kits in, and Essie here can only lend so much out.”

 

“Essie?”

 

“That’d be me,” the other woman said with a wink, and Pearl glanced quickly between her and Rose Quartz.

 

If this was what made up the art department, Pearl wasn’t sure that she wanted to keep her major after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pearl thinks too much about too many pretty ladies.

 

Pearl was an astoundingly fast learner when it came to programming languages, CSS, Java, or even writing code from scratch—she had consistently high marks in all of her classes at her previous institution, which was precisely why having her classes not transfer was infuriating.

 

She was decidedly _not_ an artist.

 

It seemed that Essie was the only person who’d bothered showing up on the first day with a name that _wasn’t_ derived from a gemstone. Lapis Lazuli and Peridot Perkinson were both freshmen too, and their nude model—on the first day! Pearl had never been so red-faced in her life—had been a broad woman with rainbow dreadlocks and tattoos, whose robe said Bismuth in fancy scrawl across the back. Essie happily informed her that this wasn’t too unusual, but she admittedly hadn’t expected quite so many this semester.

 

Pearl’s first attempt at drawing her model had Essie in stitches; the lines were all wrong, and she couldn’t bear to actually stare at the naked woman before her for longer than a few seconds at a time, and Rose Quartz could see precisely what she’d shied away from plain as day on the paper. She was gentle about it, but her critique was brutal. Pearl left the class with a list of things she needed for the following week, and still no idea what Essie meant about being with her tribe.

 

Her other classes were unremarkable; Peridot, as it turned out, was also a comp sci major, with an interest in video game coding and design. They shared a weed out class together. Pearl hardly thought that was a practical life path, but she did appreciate the blonde catching her before she walked into the Dean’s lecture hall with a streak of charcoal across her long nose.

 

When she made it back to her dorm, her roommate, Amethyst Prima, was using the shower. Pearl heaved a sigh and dragged herself into her room, set her many bags down, and slumped down on her bed, exhausted.

 

And it was only four in the afternoon!

 

Pearl closed her eyes against the sound of Amethyst’s off-key singing only a wall away, audible over the shower, and rolled over to bury her face in one of her pillows. She was an excellent listener, and prided herself in her ability to take notes no matter what was going on in the room around her, but Pearl found that she couldn’t help thinking of her morning class’ professor at every turn. Even now, several hours after the class was behind her for the week, Rose Quartz’s pretty face haunted the back of her eyelids.

 

She’d never acknowledged, growing up, that she had a type. Strictly speaking, her parents never would have let her date, and she’d never considered disappointing them by sneaking out for something as frivolous as pizza or ice cream with a boy. But then, she’d never been _interested_ in boys, never felt her skin flush when she made eye contact with the opposite sex—but with girls…

 

It didn’t help that her best friend was gorgeous. Six feet tall at a slouch, Garnet Adichie was athletic, broad-shouldered, had a tapered waist, and curves that could kill someone who hadn’t grown up with her. As it stood, Pearl barely stood a chance when they practiced much of anything together. They swam, danced, and had essentially been attached at the hip since elementary school. Even Pearl’s _parents_ encouraged her to spend time with her best friend, and sometimes—rarely—relented to her suggestions of extracurricular activities that they’d already told Pearl _no_ to.

 

Pearl sighed heavily into her pillow, eyes scrunched shut. Thinking about Garnet _that way_ wasn’t right or fair. They should have been like sisters—but she _had_ sisters, and she didn’t think either of them were especially gorgeous. Not like Garnet or Rose or Essie.

 

 _Essie_ didn’t help, either, with her inviting smile and dark makeup, and Pearl whined deep in her throat. She would never get any of her work done tonight if she was wound up over pretty women. Luckily for her, Amethyst had wound down her shower experience and finally emerged, knocking on Pearl’s door.

 

“Shower’s free, P!”

 

“Thank you!” Pearl sighed, pushing herself upright and grabbing her towel. She hurried to find shampoo and conditioner in her bag—still packed from her move the previous weekend—and made a beeline for the shower, expertly dodging the younger woman in the foyer the same way she would have slipped past her sisters back home.

 

Clothing went in the hamper, and Pearl hung her towel on the door to make sure it stayed dry. There were two bathrooms in the suite she shared with Amethyst; one with a shower, the other adjacent, with the toilet and sink. Pearl hurried to turn the water on, squirting a dollop of shampoo into her hand—cherry blossom scented—and the color reminded her all over again of Rose Quartz.

 

Thinking about Rose Quartz in the shower was _definitely_ a bad idea.

 

She hurried to wash her hair, but the mental image didn’t leave her, and Pearl felt the thoughts going due south. _Not_ at all what she needed. Pearl wrenched the hot water off, blasting herself with cold instead, and she squealed in discomfort.

 

What a way to start the semester!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pearl struggles with art class, gets a new nickname, and Garnet and Amethyst meet under somewhat awkward circumstances!

Classes with Rose Quartz happened once a week, on Tuesday, were four hours long, and somehow no less taxing than the Dean’s lectures immediately afterwards. As it turned out, drawing Bismuth hadn’t been on the syllabus—she just happened to arrive—and it seemed that Rose Quartz had many friends who crashed her classes with offers to be the day’s model, and Rose never turned them down. Later in the semester, Pearl would learn that her professor _also_ modeled, but for the first few weeks it was… strange. Surreal. It seemed nearly everyone who met Rose Quartz was attracted to her in some way.

 

Male models were less distracting, but Pearl had taken all of one course on drawing in high school, and hadn’t done very well at it. Most of that class had been limited to the basics, to drawing pottery and curtains and shading circles to look like 3D spheres, and she was quite certain that she’d only passed because _everyone_ passed. She drew jagged lines to indicate shoulders, snapped several sticks of charcoal, and Essie had to pass her sticks from her own supply so she could finish the assignment in time.

 

Gesture wasn’t easy, but Pearl felt less bad about how _ugly_ her lines looked when she only had fifteen to thirty seconds to get them down on the page. It took weeks before she understood weight, and even then, most of what she drew looked like a child trying to outline a terrible caricature of a person.

 

One model—young, _very_ pregnant, with hair the same wheat-gold color as Pearl’s older sister, and with eye shadow and piercings that reminded her of Essie—somehow yielded results unlike anything Pearl had ever drawn. She sat down on the set, crates with a satin drape over them, and Rose had told the class to try something new that day; she produced watercolor palettes from her apron and handed them out to the class. Pearl wasn’t sure how or why, but the end result was… almost good. Nothing like Essie’s work, or the vividly abstract drawings Lapis and Peridot produced, but it was the first thing Pearl felt comfortable putting into her portfolio.

 

“Doing good, Princess,” Essie said fondly, and Pearl felt heat rise in her cheeks at the praise. The last fifteen minutes of class were spent cleaning up, and in Pearl’s case, scrubbing all proof of charcoal off of her hands and face (how did it get there?! They’d used watercolor!) before her next class. “Looks like you’re finally settled in.”

 

“In my ‘tribe’, you mean?” Pearl asked cautiously, and Essie grinned broadly.

 

“You don’t know what that means, do you?”

 

“I haven’t a clue.”

 

Casting a surreptitious look around, Essie leaned down over Pearl’s shoulder to whisper; “You’re gay, right?”

 

Pearl nearly dropped her palette into the sink. She flushed brilliantly at the insinuation—and was suddenly very aware of Essie’s warmth behind her, at the gun smoke cologne she wore. “I-I…” Pearl stammered, ducking her face away from the pink-haired woman, and in the smallest voice she’d ever spoken in, murmured; “I’m not out.”

 

“I figured,” Essie said soothingly, ruffling her hair gently, and Pearl stiffened briefly at the contact. But it wasn’t _bad_ , just… Essie’s fingers left her pale, strawberry-blonde hair, and the bigger woman chuckled. “Sorry, Princess. Your secret’s safe with me. I just have a good compass for that kind of thing.”

 

“Is it very obvious?” Pearl managed, taking two paper towels to dry her arms up to the elbows with.

 

“Only when Rose talks to you.” Essie grinned, and Pearl could have died on the spot from embarrassment.

 

“You’re not serious,” she said, wadding up the soaked paper towels mechanically. “I can’t be _that_ obvious.”

 

“Just like Rose is _that_ clueless… afraid so,” Essie said, shrugging lightly and pushing the long part of her hair away from her face. The part that wasn’t cut short was layered, came approximately to her shoulders in the back, and was almost as impossibly voluminous the way Rose Quartz’s was. “Don’t worry, though. My cousin hasn’t noticed. I don’t think Lapis or Peridot cares, and the other side of the room—well, who cares, right? Everybody’s a little gay for Rose in the art department.”

 

“Even the boys?” Pearl managed to tease back, with a daringness that surprised her. But Essie’s easy way of talking about these things felt… refreshing. It was nice. She’d never even explicitly told Garnet, although she surely suspected.

 

“Even the _gay_ boys,” Essie laughed, nudging her gently away from the sink. “Now lemme clean up. You’ve got Solaire’s class next, right?”

 

“The Dean, yes,” Pearl affirmed, “With Peridot.”

 

“Might want to hurry along, then; I’ll finish cleaning up in here. We’ve wasted some of your travel time.”

 

\------

 

Garnet made it a habit to stop by Pearl’s dorm on Mondays—the one free day Pearl didn’t either dedicate to homework or labs—and this alone motivated Pearl to get her work done in a timely fashion. Garnet had gone into a completely different department, and the only course they shared was an English class that Pearl should have been allowed to test out of. She didn’t bother; not when it meant she could study with Garnet, whose only bad marks seemed to come from being married to _British_ English.

 

“There’s no ‘u’ in that word,” Pearl pointed out over her best friend’s shoulder, and Garnet groaned audibly, hastily correcting her perfectly valid spelling of the word ‘colour’.

 

“I hate your bastardized English,” Garnet grumbled, pushing her essay aside in favor of leaning back against Pearl’s bed frame. “I don’t know why they correct it when they know perfectly well what it means.”

 

“Because unlike your mothers, these teachers are out for blood,” Pearl said smoothly, playing idly with Garnet’s mass of tightly curled hair. She paused. “Is that—you tinted it blue?”

 

Garnet laughed, grinning up at her companion. “Too chicken to bleach it at this length,” she admitted, “So I lightened it a little—lemon juice trick, took a few weeks—and bam. Blue and red. I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner.”

 

“It’s noticeable in the light,” Pearl said, “Not so much in the other room.”

 

Normally, they used the common area to study; there were more outlets, and overall more space to sit together, even if the overhead light was yellow and flickered sometimes. Pearl’s bed was situated high off the ground, allowing for storage beneath it of most of her possessions, but that made it somewhat awkward to sit on. Pearl swore that the upper dorms must have been an absolute nightmare; their beds _moved_ when people were in the halls. Garnet didn’t disagree.

 

But Amethyst was doing… some kind of project that had taken over the floor, and couch, and table. And as she’d gotten to it first, it was only fair to let her have the shared space. At least this time she was dressed when Garnet arrived; she had a terrible tendency to work in her underwear. Pearl sometimes wondered if she did the same back home, but never asked.

 

Not that Pearl _minded_ Garnet being alone in her bedroom.

 

“That was kind of the goal,” Garnet admitted, “I thought it would take better. Shame I don't have light hair like yours, right? Takes bleach better.”

 

“I’m not as daring as my sisters,” Pearl laughed, “Besides, what would I dye it?”

 

Garnet hummed in response, glancing around Pearl’s room. One color stood out, and she grinned over her shoulder at the other girl. “Pink? You’ve gone _very_ pink this year.”

 

Pearl felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment, and she coughed delicately. “I… guess so. I didn’t notice.”

 

“Pearl, _everything_ you own is pink. You haven’t been this pink since your parents tried to color-code you and your sisters.”

 

It wasn’t untrue; while she’d always liked the color, her new plastic drawers and mouse pad were neon pink, and her spare comforter was a lovely shade of rose that had everything to do with her newfound interest in her professor. Years ago, her parents had tried to force colors on the three girls; Yvette got yellow-everything, Belle had blue-everything, and Pearl…

 

She was going to turn into her mother, she realized, half-horrified. “I _really_ didn’t notice,” she murmured, and Garnet laughed, reaching up to give her hand a squeeze.

 

“Can’t possibly be because you’re a little clueless,” her best friend teased, and Pearl stuck her tongue out cheekily instead of responding properly. Undeterred, Garnet went on; “If you’re not going to use that, put it away.”

 

“Dirty!” Pearl could laugh that slight off, but she had to hope to the heavens that Garnet didn’t attribute her blush to its real source. Not that she had time to inspect it; Pearl _thwapped_ her with a pillow, and it was only a matter of moments before Garnet has wrestled it from her hands, eager to get her revenge.

 

Revenge was sweet, but short-lived; Pearl dissolved into helpless giggles while her best friend pretended to smother her with her pillow, and those giggles gave way to an asthma attack like nothing Pearl had experienced since leaving home. Garnet helped her find her inhaler and Amethyst (still half-dressed) appeared in her doorway with her phone ready, threatening to call for an ambulance if the albuterol didn’t kick in fast enough—but fortunately for Pearl, it seemed to take effect before either her roommate and best friend could override her insistence that she would be fine.

 

“You got lucky, P,” Amethyst said, hanging about somewhat awkwardly in the open door, “Like, real lucky. Ambulances suck.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Pearl managed between wheezes. Garnet rubbed her back sympathetically and said nothing, silently counting the seconds between each ragged wheeze. As they grew infrequent, she finally withdrew her hand.

 

“So,” Garnet said, “You’re still having trouble with your asthma.”

 

“You’re going to lecture me, aren’t you?” Pearl murmured somewhat sourly, pursing her lips. “It’s not as bad. It must be the dust from moving. I’ll be fine to fence next semester.”

 

Her best friend frowned. “You don’t have to fence,” she said, not for the first time.

 

Pearl shook her head stubbornly. “This school offers a good program,” she insisted, “I’ve got to get my stamina back up.”

 

“You swordfight?” Amethyst asked, wide-eyed and genuinely curious. “I’d’a never guessed. You seem kind of, uh…”

 

“Effeminate?” both Pearl and Garnet supplied, because this wasn’t a conversation they were strangers to.

 

Amethyst laughed uneasily, managing a lopsided grin. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

“I do fencing, ballet, computer programming, speak three languages passably, and can’t walk in heels or play the flute,” Pearl said in a sigh, “My parents are especially mad about the last one. But I run out of breath.”

 

For her part, her roommate—fresh out of high school and well into her rebel phase, with long wavy hair streaked purple and an oversized shirt that very likely came from the 1980s, and no pants on—looked more impressed than anything else; her eyes lit up, and she welcomed herself into Pearl’s room, hopping up onto the bed as well. “That’s wild! You do it all, and you still have time for other stuff?”

 

Pearl laughed weakly, leaning toward Garnet somewhat defensively. “I… suppose so.”

 

“She doesn’t sleep,” Garnet cautioned, “Gotta lock your doors at night, or Pearl might summon you for fresh eyes on her code. Which, for the record, will look like another language, because it is.”

 

“SQL is not _that_ difficult to proof read…”

 

Amethyst looked lost; Garnet grinned wolfishly and leaned around Pearl to stage a whisper for her sake. “Pearl _might_ be a robot.”

 

“I am not!” Pearl laughed, and the wheeze was mostly gone from her voice. “Honestly, Garnet, if I were a robot I wouldn’t have spill-over homework from my courses. Or asthma. Or a bad knee.”

 

Amethyst chuckled, managing a grin. “You two are somethin’ else,” she admitted, and in a flawless transition, asked; “By the way, who was dying hair? I heard something from the living room. I’ve got tons of colors.”

 

“Neither of us,” Pearl said, but Garnet had other ideas.

 

“Amethyst, right? What color d’you think Pearl should try for her first dye job?”

 

“I’m not—“

 

“Definitely pink,” Amethyst said, “Everything she _owns_ is pink!”

 

Pearl got outvoted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl's new pink hair turns heads!

 

Pearl turned several heads when she walked into art class the following morning. Amethyst had gotten her wish, and Pearl had compromised on the topic of dying her hair, insisting that they not bleach it to death. As a result, the pink wasn’t quite the color from the box, but freshly dyed salmon pink wasn’t a _terrible_ color. She’d actually gotten several compliments on her new look already, and Rose Quartz was about to add to the list.

 

“Pearl! You dyed your hair!” her professor exclaimed, leaning down to inspect it. Pearl managed a smile. “You look lovely! Oh, you should be one of our models someday, I’d love to draw you with that color!”

 

“I-I…”

 

“Down, cousin,” Essie said with a laugh, slinging an arm around Pearl’s shoulders. “She’s gotta graduate first. Then you can enlist her into your harem of pretty models.”

 

“Essie!”

 

Pearl’s mouth was dry, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t model,” she protested, and both pink-haired women shared a look that plainly said they’d heard that before.

 

“C’mon, we’ve got a treat today,” Essie said, steering Pearl away from her cousin. “And don’t say you can’t model so quick, Princess. We’re doing portraits.”

 

Pearl’s embarrassed spluttering didn’t save her.

 

Easels were set up facing hard backed plastic chairs, and Rose Quartz had started doling out instructions for the day. Most of the standing easels already had occupants; one of the male students (who rarely showed up for class—Pearl wasn’t sure if his name was Lars or if she had him mixed up with someone else) was the only one lounging on the model’s side. Pearl swallowed hard as Essie claimed the last easel, motioning for her to sit across from her.

 

“Oh no, no no, I can’t,” Pearl protested, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Essie only laughed, staging a deliberate bow. “Essie, I don’t _want_ to model.”

 

“Tough bits, we’re all modeling today,” Lars drawled, stretching lazily where he sat, having already flipped his chair around so that the back was to the easel. “It’s a merry-go-round session.”

 

Pearl looked perplexed, and Rose Quartz was happy to elaborate. “Each student will take a turn modeling _and_ drawing—after five minutes, we’ll switch to the left and get a new partner. For instance, Pearl, when you shift over, you’ll be Lapis’ model, and Buck will take Essie’s easel. It’s not nearly as complicated as it sounds. It’ll be fun!”

 

Pearl seriously doubted that being drawn by classmates she hardly knew would be fun. She shifted uncomfortably, but nodded anyway. As if she could tell Rose Quartz no even if she weren’t her professor!

 

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Essie said smoothly, “I’ll make it easy on you. All you have to do is sit and take a neutral pose that you can hold easily, and try not to move while I’m sketching. Don’t smile, it’ll just make your face hurt. You’re on the end, so the first half of class’ll be easy for you; you just have to sit and look nice between rotations.”

 

“Oh! Don’t forget to sign your work, since we’re sharing sketchpads,” Rose said cheerily, moving to take the last seat as Peridot and Lapis sat diagonally from each other. “Since there are an odd number of students today, I’ll be joining you. I can’t wait to see everyone’s work!”

 

Pearl dreaded it; peer review was almost never in her favor. There were only three other students who had no real experience in art, and Lars, who put no effort into anything he did, was already leaps and bounds ahead of her skill-level. The pink-haired woman sat down uneasily, stuffing her hands into her lap, and turning toward Essie with a look on her face that very clearly screamed “deer in the headlights.”

 

“Relax, relax!” Essie said easily, “Turn a little left, it’ll be easier on me. Drawing head-on is stupid difficult. Especially in five minutes. You’re really out for blood today, aren’t you, cousin?”

 

Rose Quartz laughed, and Lapis took a kneaded eraser to the beginnings of her sketch. “ _Primita_! You’re out to give me a bad name,” she giggled. “Jason cancelled on modeling for today, so I thought this would be fun for everyone.”

 

“Fun, right…”

 

Rose Quartz turned her attention to the wall clock, nearing the five minute mark, and Pearl watched her mouth the final seconds before she spoke again; “Aaaand, start!”

 

Somehow, it wasn’t a complete disaster. Pearl even managed to sit almost perfectly still for _Rose Quartz_ , despite her cheeks blazing and her palms sweating. Rose praised her for being able to sit so still, but warned her not to say anything until the five minutes were up; Pearl didn’t think she _could_ speak after praise from the woman she so admired. She was still flushed when she rotated onto the artists’ side, but somehow, being distracted produced unexpectedly passable results.

 

Essie teased her good-naturedly when it was her turn to model, and Pearl got so caught up in the details of her sketch that she didn’t finish her classmate’s eyes or nose before her time was up.

 

“Awful lot of attention on my lips, Princess,” Essie said with a cheeky grin. “Something you’re not telling me?”

 

Color flooded Pearl’s face, and she swallowed hard. Essie was attractive, certainly, but she was _used_ to Essie, several weeks into the semester. “I like your lipstick,” she said cagily, and it wasn’t a lie. Her friend grinned, but took the compliment without further teasing, and Pearl counted her blessings all too soon.

 

She never got the chance to draw Rose Quartz; with Peridot between them in the rotation, and an even number of seats and easels, there wasn’t enough time to shuffle when they resumed their starting positions. Pearl almost wished they _had_ shuffled and continued drawing instead of changing gears to peer review; it would have been infinitely less embarrassing.

 

To her immense surprise, she wasn’t actually underperforming _that_ badly. Lapis had taken the liberty of drawing everyone in the class as cartoon characters, starting with Peridot as a bright green alien riding a bottle of maple syrup, and with growing ridiculousness throughout. She was relieved beyond measure that Lapis’ only ‘adjustments’ to drawing her had been to draw her looking like something out of a 70s shoujo manga, with the beginnings of a military uniform in lieu of her sweater. Pearl didn’t want to ask.

 

Predictably enough, Essie’s work was unfairly beautiful in how she depicted everyone in the class, save Lars, who “hadn’t earned it.”

 

“Why, exactly, are you in _101_?” Pearl asked in a whisper, and Essie grinned broadly.

 

“A secret,” she said with a cheeky wink, and Pearl rolled her eyes.

 

“You’re awfully mysterious for someone with her life story decorating her saddle bag in pin form,” Pearl lamented, but she didn’t mind. Essie was a wonderful distraction from her _other_ distraction.

 

Rose Quartz bemoaned not getting to draw half of her students, and promised another session in the future, and Pearl wasn’t sure that she could handle modeling for Rose Quartz again, much less the alternative. She was absolutely certain that staring at Rose Quartz—being _invited_ to do so, no less—would make her spontaneously combust in front of the entire class.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amethyst screws up, to unexpectedly positive results.

The remainder of the week was spent making up for lost time as midterms approached. Drawing 101 took up most of her semi-spare time, with plenty of tossed out sketches and most of a book filled with practice using Conté, but as the semester wore on, she found she had less and less time to work on impressing Rose Quartz, and more and more projects in her other classes that required near constant attention. Amethyst had finally demanded that Pearl get some proper sleep three days before the Differential Equations midterm, and that came with the threat of drugging her tea. Unsure as to whether or not Amethyst would do such a thing, Pearl had complied.

 

Amethyst drugged her tea anyway, just in case.

 

Garnet arrived early Monday morning to find that Pearl was very, very groggy, and decidedly out of it. Amethyst sheepishly confessed her sins while Garnet tried to convince Pearl not to strangle her.

 

“It was Benadryl!” Amethyst said defensively, “I didn’t think she’d drop like a _rock_!”

 

“You can’t just _drug people_ , Amethyst!”

 

“Pearl doesn’t have a high tolerance for these things,” Garnet explained, but it wasn’t much of an explanation. “Her parents don’t exactly keep Benadryl on hand. How much did you give her?”

 

“Like… two…”

 

“ _Amethyst_!” Pearl tried to take on her mother’s scolding tone, but her voice was slurred, “I’ve… I’ve got so much work to do…”

 

“I’m sorry, okay? Your light’s on all the time, and you’ve been late getting up like _every morning_ , you’re constantly pissed, I had to do _something_ before you totally burned out!”

 

Pearl wanted to scream. But screaming took energy and effort, and she was certainly short on the first of those two things. Garnet gently guided her toward the couch, supporting most of her slight weight with strong hands that were entirely prepared to catch her if she stumbled, and Pearl’s knees dropped out before she actually made contact with the cushion.

 

“You’re staying on that couch until I’m satisfied it’s out of your system,” Garnet informed her, leaving no room for protest as she slipped past Amethyst and back into Pearl’s room, returning with two chilled water bottles. The younger girl looked between her two friends nervously, worrying her hands, and cautiously followed to perch on the couch arm.

 

“I’m sorry, P,” Amethyst said sincerely, “I really thought it’d just help you sleep. I take like four, no problem, and my parents used to dose me sometimes… Please don’t hate me?”

 

“You came from a place of caring,” Garnet said, moving to sit on Pearl’s opposite side. “Nobody’s going to hate you, Amethyst.”

 

Pearl nodded vaguely in agreement, but the world spun, and she wondered if she’d have hated Amethyst a _little_ for this stunt if her brain weren’t quite so filled with cotton. She huffed through her nose, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. “I don’t hate you,” she mumbled, “Promise, Amethyst.”

 

Garnet brushed her fingers through Pearl’s short hair, a soothing gesture that was all too familiar; Pearl got sick often, growing up, and Garnet had always insisted upon being there. The pink-haired woman sighed, turning into Garnet’s touch with a tired sort of eagerness that she normally would have been too shy to show in front of Amethyst—but even perched on the arm of the couch next to her, the younger girl seemed like she was several worlds away, and the only person Pearl could think of in that moment was Garnet.

 

“Mm,” Pearl sighed again, and Garnet chuckled. Pale blue eyes fluttered open to search Garnet’s face, and Pearl frowned. “What’s funny?”

 

“You,” Garnet said softly, threading her fingers through Pearl’s bangs and side fringe methodically. “You’ve got paint on your forehead, you’re in pink pajamas, I don’t think you’ve been so out of it since you got your wisdom teeth taken out—and you still look like an angel when you close your eyes.”

 

Pearl giggled, tried to shake her head, and blinked quickly as the room spun. “Don’t start singing me to sleep with hymns,” she managed. She dropped her head onto Garnet’s shoulder, somewhat padded by her sweater.

 

“Uh… should I go?” Amethyst asked at length, when Pearl hadn’t moved from her face-down position against her best friend. “You guys seem kinda… cozy… I don’t wanna get in the way.”

 

Garnet grinned so roguishly that Amethyst’s heart nearly stopped. If Pearl did have it bad for Garnet, she could see why. “She’s just like this when she’s sufficiently medicated,” she explained, “You don’t have to worry about it.”

 

Amethyst hiked an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised and confused. “I meant you too,” she said, and Garnet laughed.

 

“ _Pearl_ doesn't mean anything by it. It’s been like this since we were kids,” she said, glancing down at Pearl, who seemed to have conked out against her shoulder. Garnet ran her fingers through Pearl’s hair again, earning a contented sigh. “Plus, her sights aren’t on me.”

 

That sounded, to Amethyst, like a confirmation of her suspicions in drag. But she didn’t push; it wasn’t her business, she told herself, and when it became clear that Pearl was indeed out like a light, she slipped off the couch. “I’ve got stuff to study,” she said vaguely, stretching her arms high over her head and popping her shoulder in the process. “Come get me if you want anything? My door’ll be open.”

 

“Thank you, Amethyst,” Garnet said affably, not bothering to look up.

 

They both knew she wouldn’t be getting off that couch unless Pearl woke up first.

 

Garnet turned slightly to adjust her arm behind Pearl’s slim shoulders, and the muffled sound of protest her best friend made could have broken her heart. “Still here,” Garnet assured her, pressing her nose into Pearl’s pink hair. “Not going anywhere.” Whether Pearl heard or not, she sighed blissfully and—perhaps more importantly—didn't wake even when Garnet dusted a kiss over her temple.

 

Pearl slept comfortably until mid-afternoon. When she did wake, it was to the sort of pounding headache that came with too _much_ sleep. She stirred, groaned quietly into the pillowy-something her face was pressed against, and clutched what should have been her body pillow closer.

 

“Handsy,” came Garnet’s voice from slightly above her head, and Pearl whined.

 

“…Still dreamin’…”

 

“A brilliant deduction.”

 

“Y’not really Garnet…”

 

“I think you’ll find I am.”

 

Pearl shook her head, finally blinking bleary eyes open. What should have been her pillowcase was, in fact, the front pocket of Garnet’s sweater, which meant the pillow her face was pressed into—

 

Garnet barely had the forethought to dodge before Pearl jerked away, flushed up to her ears, and stammering apologies. “You’re fine,” Garnet said quickly, reaching to catch Pearl’s burning face in her hands. “Amethyst slipped you some Benadryl and you fell asleep again when we got to the couch. I promise I was a voluntary pillow.”

 

Pearl stared, squinting against the ceiling light, and pursed her lips in a frown. “That… would explain some things,” she murmured, though it certainly didn’t explain why Garnet had apparently agreed to be her human body pillow. She coughed delicately. “Sorry if I, er…”

 

“Never once minded holding you, Pearl,” Garnet assured her, “Even if you talk in your sleep and drool a little before you start snoring like you’re sawing a gigantic log—“

 

“I do none of those things!” Pearl laughed, “Now I know you’re making things up.”

 

“Maybe,” Garnet laughed too, and Pearl was abruptly aware that her best friend still held her face in her hands. She swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do, and Garnet seemed to read her mind, finally releasing her.

 

Pearl wasn’t sure she wanted to be released.

 

“Here,” Garnet said, offering her a not-so-chilled water bottle and brushing Pearl’s bangs away from the dash of paint on her forehead. “Drink this, and I’ll hit the cantina to get you some eggs. I’ll make that ramen you secretly like, and we’ll take the rest of today easy.”

 

Pearl nodded obediently, nursing the bottle of water and fully aware that she would get nowhere arguing with Garnet about whether she would be eating a college student staple instead of going to the cafeteria.

 

“I have some seaweed on a shelf,” she said, and Garnet nodded vaguely.

 

She stood, ruffling Pearl’s hair fondly, and managed a lopsided grin. “You just rest up while I play nurse,” she said, “You know I’ll take care of you.”

 

Pearl knew; she’d never doubted it. But it was nice to hear, now and again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl takes a day away from her classes and learns something unexpected.

Garnet must have been a witch, because even the food she cooked without an actual stove tasted like something out of a restaurant. That, or Pearl was still so hopelessly infatuated with her best friend that she couldn’t do anything wrong, even under scrutiny. Pearl had quickly given up all hope of getting work done with her pounding headache to contend with, and Garnet had happily made three bowls of ramen, each with egg and seaweed and a little bit of lunch meat to pretend the meal was balanced. Amethyst took hers like a peace offering and scalded her tongue, but immediately asked if Garnet wanted to cook for her forever.

 

“It’s that good, for real!” Amethyst said, in awe. “I think I’m ruined for plain ramen forever.”

 

Pearl chuckled faintly, sandwiched between best friend and roommate on the too-small couch. “I’ve got first dibs,” she said softly, “I asked her to marry me when we were eight.”

 

“And I said yes, but you never made good on giving me a ring,” Garnet said, elbowing Pearl in the side good-naturedly. “So here I am, still single, twelve years later.”

 

“Ehh? You’re not really waiting around for P, are you?” Amethyst blurted out, and Pearl occupied herself with drinking her favorite Darjeeling tea to avoid looking at either of them. “For twelve years…?”

 

Garnet laughed. “I could be,” she said, deliberately hedging the question. “Pearl’s never dated, either.”

 

“Garnet!” Pearl’s entire face was red as a tomato. “Amethyst can’t possibly be interested in that.”

 

“I’m totally interested! You two’re like, my only friends on campus, you know?” the younger girl said, glancing aside before the others could stare at her properly. “I mean, I don’t know too many people in my major, and I’m from out of state, so…”

 

Pearl stared at her for a moment, lowering her tea. “I had no idea,” she said solemnly, “Amethyst, why don’t you ever come with us to dinner if that’s the case…?”

 

“Seemed like buttin’ in,” Amethyst muttered, shrugging one shoulder lightly. “You two’re best friends since forever, and I’m just some punk freshman P’s stuck living with.”

 

“But that doesn’t mean—“

 

Garnet leaned around Pearl to ruffle Amethyst’s dark hair. “Amethyst, you’re not butting in,” she assured her, “You’re welcome to join either or both of us anytime. Give me your number, and I’ll make sure we include you more. At least you’ll have the option if you know where we are.”

 

Something about Amethyst’s expression looked lost for a moment, and Pearl wondered, not for the first time, what kind of life her roommate led back home. Still, she smiled and reached out to give Amethyst’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Garnet’s right,” she said, “You never use my number, but you should, Amethyst.”

 

Pearl wasn’t sure that the younger girl would listen, but Amethyst smiled and nodded before hurrying to change the topic.

 

\------

 

Unfortunately for Pearl, there was simply no way to cram eleven hours of work into the three hours she had left after Garnet returned to her own dorm before three o’clock in the morning—which was, in theory, her cutoff time for working if she had any hope of waking up and functioning like a real person in the morning. Pearl cursed her time-management skills, as though that were the real problem, and tried her best to pull an all-nighter, thinking that she’d slept more than enough the day before to survive on no rest.

 

Predictably enough, that didn’t work as planned.

 

And for the first time in her academic career, Pearl slept through the next morning’s classes, despite the fact that Tuesday meant _Drawing 101_ with Rose and Essie.

 

The Dean would have her head for missing a quiz, to boot.

 

Pearl awoke several hours later, facedown on her textbook, which was altogether less comfortable than sleeping on Garnet’s bosom had been. Her neck ached, her back was stiff, and she’d _drooled_ on the very expensive Differential Equations book like a little girl.

 

Embarrassed, but fortunate enough for no one to see, Pearl dragged herself to the shower to try to wake herself properly. Scrubbing down in lukewarm water was more soothing than anything, but Pearl didn’t care; she couldn’t afford a hot shower with her newly dyed hair, especially when everyone around her seemed to think it suited her.

 

Pearl wondered what her sisters would think, because thinking about her sisters was just unsexy enough to not think about Garnet or Rose or Essie. Still, Belle had dyed her hair, once, at Yvette’s behest, and their parents hadn’t minded. Yvette had been getting hers bleached by friends ( _older_ friends, of which Yvette had no shortage) by the time they entered high school, but Belle had never so much as _considered_ straying from her neat little corner, as it were. It had shocked the entire family when she came down from Yvette’s bedroom with navy blue hair instead of pale blonde—but as always, their parents had been supportive enough. Pearl couldn’t even recall if her father had been more than _blandly_ shocked, in that dry sort of way that she supposed most fathers handled the daring rebellious antics of their children.

 

She recalled, too, that her mother had taken the change as a challenge—and their rooms had been changed for _months_ afterwards, yellow, blue, and pink, with new paint jobs and new bedding for each of them.

 

Pearl wondered what her _mother_ would think, after having suggested it twice herself. She was pretty sure she had been kidding, but the look on her face…

 

She couldn’t imagine it.

 

Pearl’s course load had been too much to go home for the weekends, especially with a mandatory Saturday lab, and with Sunday evenings dedicated to making sure code actually ran smoothly at her workstation in the computer lab. But Thanksgiving was coming fairly soon, and she could visit her parents for that, if either of her sisters felt like giving her a ride. With three cars to a five-person household, it had been agreed more or less unanimously that Pearl could survive without one at school—and while it wasn’t convenient, it wasn’t untrue.

 

Besides, Garnet had a motorcycle. If she absolutely needed something off campus, her best friend had already proven more than happy to oblige.

 

And here her thoughts circled back to Garnet, to those feelings that she tried so vainly to deny, and the cool shower wasn’t enough. Pearl huffed, blew water away from her nose, and tried resolutely to clear her mind.

 

Lukewarm water was only so tolerable, and Pearl finished washing, shaving, scrubbing, and all of her other rituals in what must have been record time. She escaped the bathroom in short order, only to find Amethyst lazing about on the couch, half-dressed. Pearl frowned a little, clutching her towel resolutely tighter around her slim chest. “Amethyst? You don’t have class right now?”

 

“Cancelled,” Amethyst said, raising an eyebrow at her companion. “What about you? You’ve got lecture on Tuesdays, right?”

 

“Slept too late,” Pearl admitted uncomfortably, feeling her cheeks heat. “I stayed up until who-knows-when, and…”

 

“Tell me about it once you’re dressed,” Amethyst said, waving to her. “You’re drippin’ on the tile, and I know you don’t like that.”

 

She was right about that, Pearl thought ruefully, and she nodded before ducking back into her room to finish drying off. Some dye came away in her white towel when she dried her hair, but not much, and Pearl was soon dressed again, in leggings and a too-long shirt that might’ve been Garnet’s, at one point. Now, it hung loosely on Pearl’s thin frame and practically swallowed her whole, much the way Amethyst’s favorite shirts so often did.

 

“Sorry,” Pearl said instinctively, hanging her towel on the hook outside the bathroom door. “I didn’t mean to take so long getting dressed.”

 

“Y’mean like a minute?” Amethyst asked, hiking an eyebrow in confusion. “P, I thought you’d get like… your usual level of dressed, not something _comfortable_.”

 

The dig at her usual tidiness didn’t go without notice; Pearl was almost unfailingly up, dressed, and in light makeup _every_ morning, save Tuesdays, when she mysteriously looked decidedly _more_ made up than usual. Amethyst had her suspicions as to the why behind it all, but she had no reason to confront Pearl about them yet.

 

“If I’m staying in anyway, there’s no reason to get really dressed,” Pearl said, skirting the puddle she’d made as she moved to return the towels to the bathroom. She realized belatedly that she could use one to sop up the water, and reluctantly put one—already folded—on the puddle.

 

“You’re always super tidy,” Amethyst drawled lazily, watching Pearl circle the table to sit down on the opposite side of the couch. “Doesn’t it get annoying?”

 

Pearl raised a critical eyebrow at that. “How is having a healthy routine _annoying_?”

 

The younger woman shrugged bared shoulders. “I dunno. You dress up all the time, except Mondays, but it’s just _school_. Nobody’s gonna care if you loosen up and stop looking like you’re going to a job interview.”

 

“Like you ‘didn’t care’ just now, when I came out in this?”

 

Amethyst paused, then grinned lopsidedly, pushing her too-long bangs away from one eye. “Touché. But, I mean, are you trying to stand out? ‘Cause you don’t seem the type, but you _totally_ stand out with what you wear, P.”

 

Pearl looked down at her current attire—something she would never wear outside her dorm willingly—and shrugged one shoulder lightly. “My sisters and I learned to dress a… certain way, I suppose. When we were young.”

 

“Your sisters’re fancy too?” Amethyst asked, sprawling toward her and propping her chin in her hands. “Like, all of them?”

 

“I’ve only got _two_.”

 

“ _Both_ of them?”

 

Pearl couldn’t help laughing a little at Amethyst’s blatant prying, and she leaned back to close her eyes. “Yes, both. Belle and Yvette are… well, Yvette went through her rebellious phase _early_ —“

 

“And you’re just hittin’ it now?” Amethyst supplied helpfully, and Pearl felt her cheeks color in embarrassment.

 

“You could say that,” she admitted, absently finger-combing her salmon pink hair. “I don’t know what I’ll tell them over Thanksgiving. First taking that art class, and now this? Dad won’t understand why I didn’t drop on the first day.”

 

Amethyst regarded her with open curiosity in her dark eyes, head cocked to the side in the perfect picture of someone who was eager to hear everything. Pearl wondered how much of that came from loneliness and then whether she was projecting. “You seem like you like it,” she said, “Didn’t you sign up to take a break from your death-major?”

 

Pearl shook her head, no. “Not intentionally. There was a scheduling error, and I… well, I couldn’t bring myself to drop it after the first day. I _should have_ , but…”

 

“Is the teacher super hot?”

 

Amethyst’s tone was entirely teasing, but that didn’t save Pearl from a flush that went clear up to her roots. “ _Amethyst_!”

 

“He is!” Amethyst laughed, “I knew it! That’s why you do your makeup even though I know you’ve gotta wash after that class, ‘cause you always come back with it wiped off! What’s he look like? Is he tall?”

 

Pearl looked ready to bolt from where she sat; unfortunately for her, Amethyst was between her and the door to her room. “I…” she started, and then, in a move she was sure she would regret later, blurted out; “ _She_ is very lovely, yes. And tall.”

 

“She? Oh— _ooh_!” Amethyst’s eyes went wide and round, and she grinned so broadly that Pearl swore the smile was too big for her face. “You’ve got Rose Quartz? She’s my cousin!”

 

“ _What_?!”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amethyst throws Pearl for another loop. Then another. Can't a lovesick girl get a break?!

Pearl didn’t think she could quantify the likelihood of Rose Quartz having two cousins attending the school she worked at, not when her brain was lagging, but she _was_ certain that it was highly improbable. “You’re kidding me!” escaped her lips as she stared at her roommate, and Amethyst shook her head.

 

“Rose is the whole reason I came to this school! Parents didn’t want me to leave home, but…” Amethyst pulled a face Pearl recognized as being one that wasn’t _particularly_ happy, but the expression passed as she shrugged. “Anyway, since my cuz works here, they let me move for school! I don’t see her much, but I figure she keeps my parents off my back, so she must be keepin’ up on me.”

 

Wide blue eyes stared, and Pearl tried to process this new information to little effect. “What about… Essie, she’s also your cousin?”

 

“Estella?” Amethyst looked surprised, then grinned crookedly. “She’s Rose’s cousin—I don’t really know her that well. We just see each other at family reunions ‘n stuff. We’re not real close, but she’s nice. She and Rose’re awful babysitters, but Estella always took the blame, so mom put her foot down and stopped letting them sit for me.”

 

Pearl’s brows creased in consternation, and she frowned. “They both seem, ah… well, I suppose Rose isn’t very attentive, but Essie seems like she would be good with kids?”

 

Somehow, Amethyst’s grin grew, and she folded her arms behind her head, leaning back against the couch, chest puffed out proudly. “You might think that, but _you_ never babysat _me_.”

 

In all honesty, Pearl couldn’t argue with that.

 

“ _Any_ way…” Amethyst drawled, peering over at Pearl with an expression that positively screamed smug satisfaction. She looked like a puma—and Pearl had never particularly been good at assigning animals to expressions. “So you’ve got it bad for my cousin?” She said it like it was a joke, and Pearl wondered if Amethyst, too, subscribed to Essie’s theory that everyone was a little bit gay for Rose Quartz.

 

Color crept up the back of Pearl’s neck, but Amethyst’s leer made it abundantly clear that there was no sense in denying it. The pink-haired woman managed a weak nod. “I—er, well, yes. You could say that.”

 

Amethyst nodded sagely, but something in Pearl’s tone took the amusement out of her sails. She wasn’t a cruel person, and the news she had to deliver was mixed, at best. Dark indigo eyes flickered over Pearl’s hands, fisted nervously in her lap, and the younger girl sighed. “Well… lucky for you, Rose is _totally_ clueless with that kind of stuff,” Amethyst said, but her lips pursed in a faint frown. “ _Unlucky_ for you… she’s got a fiancé.”

 

 _Oh_.

 

Of course. It had been foolish to hope.

 

Rose Quartz didn’t wear a ring, but then, she taught a course where jewelry would very quickly tarnish. Pearl hadn’t even thought about it—that other than flowery earrings, her professor was generally under-decorated for an Amazonian goddess walking among undeserving mortals. Even Essie took her jewelry off and left it on her easel when she worked, so it made _perfect_ sense that Rose would wear no rings, no bracelets, nothing that could get clay or charcoal all over it.

 

Pearl’s crestfallen expression must have been more telling than she would have liked to admit, because Amethyst reached out and offered her arms in an unmistakable invitation for a hug. When the older woman leaned closer, her roommate pulled her into a hug, and where she would have pulled away normally, Pearl instead found herself curling into her friend’s embrace.

 

Garnet had always teased her for crying easily, but oddly enough, she only seemed capable of doing it when Garnet was around. Pearl rarely cried on her own, and even _more_ rarely cried around anyone else. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes, and she hugged Amethyst like a lifeline, but they didn’t fall, and Pearl didn’t speak for a long while.

 

“…Thank you for telling me,” she said mechanically, starting to draw away, but Amethyst’s arms around her tightened minimally.

 

“There’s uh… more,” Amethyst said uncertainly, chewing the inside of her lip, and Pearl met her eyes with the look of someone whose hopes and dreams were already dashed on jagged rocks. The freshman wished she’d known. Wished she’d thought for a second that Pearl was interested in someone other than Garnet, who seemed too obvious, because she might’ve been able to tell her sooner…

 

“Rose is pregnant. That’s uh. That’s why she got engaged. Her boyfriend knocked her up this summer and… yeah, uh.” Amethyst’s voice dropped, and she awkwardly ran her short fingers through Pearl’s hair in what she _hoped_ desperately was a soothing gesture. Coming from her, it might not have been. Actually, this was more physical contact than the pair had shared all semester, and Amethyst was a little surprised that Pearl was okay with it. “She’s not really showin’ that much yet, ‘cause she’s big and all, but she and Greg’re supposed to get married around New Year's.”

 

Pearl felt like her stomach had dropped out, and she stared long and hard at her roommate for several moments. It wasn’t unheard of. It even made _sense_. Pearl found herself wondering about the peculiar way Rose sometimes stood, with a hand at the small of her back, but she certainly wouldn’t have guessed. Her professor wore long dresses that gathered beneath her bust, impractical for her job but perfectly suited for her, and donned an apron most days. Pearl had never once thought of Rose as matronly, too caught up in her ethereal beauty, but… she could see it.

 

 _How had she missed it_?

 

That Pearl hadn’t known anyone—particularly—who had been pregnant in the last ten or so years didn’t ultimately matter. Her aunt on her father’s side had given birth to twins when she was entering middle school, but that had been half way across the country. Pearl hadn’t been intimately aware of the ins and outs of the process, only that Auntie Nacre couldn’t make it for Christmas; the twins were too young to travel.

 

That had been a long time ago, and Pearl had never had any interest of having her own children. She hadn’t done a lot of research, hadn’t kept in touch with high school acquaintances who’d already gotten married. Still, Pearl considered herself fairly observant, generally.

 

The world spun, just a little, and Pearl blinked rapidly. She looked up at Amethyst, brows creased, and shakily released her hold on the younger girl. “I—I need to call Garnet,” she managed, and Amethyst let her go with some visible reluctance.

 

“I’ll still be here,” Amethyst said, and Pearl nodded vaguely, rising on legs that didn’t feel exactly _real_ and doing an awkward heel turn toward her room.

 

“I know, I just—“

 

“I get it, P,” the younger girl cut in, and her smile looked out of place. Maybe it was the worry in her dark eyes. Maybe it was the way her mouth faltered. “Call G. You’ll feel better. It’s okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl calls Garnet to cry it out. But how can she be anything but incriminating when the problem is directly related to her sexuality?

Pearl misdialed Garnet’s phone number twice before simply going through her contacts instead. Her vision blurred with tears that had no right to fall, over a woman she had no claim to, and Pearl almost cursed out loud. What was she _doing_?

 

Garnet’s phone must have rang six times before it switched over to voicemail, and Pearl wanted to throw her own device against the wall. She ended the call before Garnet’s message—unchanged from four years ago and notably higher than her voice was now—could even finish playing, and she flung herself down on her stupidly pink comforter and pillow with a low wail of frustration.

 

Pearl had never really experienced rejection before—and she couldn’t even _call_ this rejection, not when Rose Quartz had no idea how she felt. But pining after a woman who was soon to be married, who was going to have a _child_ , tasted like wood shavings in the back of her mouth, and her stomach felt like it was lined with stone. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how unobservant she’d been, how unbelievably stupid, how blinded by—by lust, attraction, _whatever_ it was that smoldered in her gut whenever she looked at her professor, to think that a college freshman would ever have a chance. What kind of early 2000s sitcom nonsense _was_ that?

 

Beside her face, her phone lit up and buzzed; Garnet’s name in pink letters (so much pink! She never wanted to see it again) flashed brightly, and she snatched her phone back up to answer it.

 

“Garnet…?”

 

“Pearl! Are you alright?” Garnet’s voice came out in a worried rush, and Pearl didn’t regret calling, but she felt guilty for worrying her. “Don’t you have class right now?”

 

Oops.

 

“I’m fine!” She wasn’t, and she knew Garnet could tell from the panicked lilt to her voice. “I… er, well, I slept late and missed my courses, and I…” Pearl trailed off miserably, voice choked with tears that weren’t appropriate, and she pressed half of her face into her pillow to wipe at the wetness there. “I just wanted to hear you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted your class.”

 

“It’s just a writing lab,” Garnet assured her, “I can leave anytime. Do you need me to?”

 

For a long time, Pearl didn’t answer. She didn’t need it. She didn’t _deserve_ it. She wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened without having to come out to Garnet—who surely wouldn’t mind, but she’d never deliberately _done_ it before, and Pearl’s longstanding fear that it would make things change was deep seeded—and more than that, she didn’t know that she wouldn’t say something stupid in her haste.

 

But she did want to see Garnet. She always did, always had. Garnet had been her rock for most of her life, closer than her sisters. Pearl sniffled piteously, and Garnet spoke before she could.

 

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” her best friend insisted, and Pearl ultimately agreed without much of a fight.

 

“Can you stay on the phone with me?” Pearl asked hopefully, knowing it was silly. She wiped at her tears with her hands, knowing full well that Garnet was too astute to miss that she’d been crying. Not even makeup would hide that. “I’m sorry, I know you’re coming over, but I just… It’s stupid, I just need to hear somebody else. Something other than my own thoughts. Anything.”

 

Garnet hummed softly, and Pearl suspected that the rustling of papers and books in the background was her best friend sweeping her desk clear. She hoped she hadn’t interrupted anything _too_ important, but knew that Garnet would never prioritize school over her. It was something she admired about her, something she wished she hadn’t had to _learn_. It wasn’t instinctual for Pearl at all.

 

“My professor somehow managed to sleep through my presentation and marked me as a no-show. My moms are going to raise hell if he doesn’t fix it,” Garnet said lightly, and Pearl drew in a shaky breath, wiping her eyes. Garnet’s voice continued, soft and soothing, low in her ear as she detailed the man’s ineptitude and her parents’ respective explosive reactions. Ruby and Sapphire Adichie took their daughter’s schooling more seriously than she did; where Garnet was laid back, her mothers were like fire and ice, two women with polar opposite personalities that loved each other, and their daughter, more than the world. Pearl could imagine their reactions when she closed her eyes.

 

Garnet’s parents were the first gay people Pearl had ever met, and they weren’t subtle about it. Her own parents had initially taken issue with the influence they might have on their daughters, but Sapphire was profoundly diplomatic when she was angry, and Ruby argued that they were obviously not going to do anything inappropriate in front of Garnet’s friends. Eventually, Pearl’s parents relented.

 

Ruby and Sapphire wormed their way into the family as flawlessly as Garnet had, even joining them on holidays. Garnet mentioned their intention to join the Jules family’s Thanksgiving dinner, and by then, Pearl had calmed down enough to contribute to the conversation.

 

“We should tell my parents,” Pearl pointed out, and Garnet’s laugh made her heart hurt a little less. “Give them warning this time.”

 

“Not like Easter, right?” Garnet needled, glad that Pearl had responded at all. The other girl giggled faintly, and for that, Garnet was doubly pleased. She didn’t consider herself a very good storyteller. Actually, of the two of them, _Pearl_ did the most talking, and Garnet much preferred it that way. “I’m going to have to hang up—I’m almost to your dorm, but we both know the call’ll drop as soon as I’m near your building.”

 

“I need to wash my face,” Pearl sighed, pushing herself up with her free arm and catching sight of how puffy and red her eyes were in her mirror.

 

“You haven’t told me what made you cry,” Garnet pointed out, and Pearl wished she weren’t so sharp—but then, Garnet was the only person she didn’t _mind_ knowing that she cried. “It’s a safe bet that it wasn’t sleeping through the Dean’s lecture.”

 

“I’ll tell you when you get here,” Pearl murmured. She owed Garnet that, at least, even if it meant having to muster up a _lot_ of courage.

 

Garnet hummed, and almost abruptly said; “I’d be there for you for anything. You know that. Whatever it is, I’ll listen, and you don’t have to worry. I won’t laugh or judge you, Pearl.”

 

She knew that. Deep down, Pearl knew that if _anyone_ in the world could accept her without question, it would be Garnet. Even with how blasé Amethyst’s reaction had been to her admission earlier, and even compared to _Essie,_ Pearl knew underneath the coil of anxiety in her gut that Garnet wouldn’t abandon her for something as relatively inconsequential as her sexuality. Not after so many years.

 

“I know,” Pearl managed, blinking fresh tears away. “I know, Garnet.”

 

“Good. I won’t be five more minutes.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl agonizes about coming out and keeping secrets, but Garnet has secrets of her own.

Garnet was perhaps astonishingly punctual when she wanted to be; Pearl had time to rinse her face ineffectually in the communal sink before her best friend arrived. Washing hadn’t done much beyond highlight just how much of a mess Pearl felt; blotchy cheeks and puffy eyes stared back at her in the mirror, with no makeup to hide how _exhausted_ she looked. She wished, briefly, that Garnet were _ten_ minutes away, not five, but sure enough, there was a knock at the door even before she could drag her brush through her hair to maintain some semblance of dignity.

 

Not that Garnet hadn’t ever seen her like this before.

 

Not that Garnet would judge her.

 

Pearl knew this, but she judged her reflection quite harshly, and it scowled back at her, ugly and tired and miserable.

 

The sound of Garnet opening the door jolted her out of her thoughts, and Pearl turned down the short hall between her and Amethyst’s rooms to intercept her. The younger girl had either left or—perhaps more likely—holed herself up in her room.

 

“When did you get keys?” Pearl asked, trying without luck to sound curious instead of croaky. She couldn’t sound _normal_ now, though, and she knew that behind her tinted glasses, Garnet was appraising her. No outward signs of injury, nothing visibly wrong—except for that telltale redness in her eyes that she couldn’t will away.

 

“Conveniently enough, the door wasn’t locked. Must’ve been Amethyst,” Garnet said lightly, and Pearl didn’t like the sound of that, but said nothing as Garnet unlaced the tops of her boots to slip out of them. Amethyst’s preparedness was heartening, but Pearl didn’t have to like that she was so easily read.

 

What if she were obvious in other areas, too?

 

Once out of her shoes, Garnet turned to her best friend, a few inches closer to her height and with a light frown on her lips. “Your room?” she suggested, and Pearl nodded faintly, worrying her hands a little before she turned. She walked like a puppet, strings pulled without her input, and when Garnet’s hand found the small of her back to tug her shirt down she almost jumped out of her skin.

 

She’d never been so nervous.

 

Garnet’s hand lingered for maybe two seconds, but Pearl could feel the electric tingle it left behind even after she made it into her room and sank down on the bed. It was fundamentally _strange_ to be nervous around Garnet, and even stranger to have second thoughts about telling her best friend something—but she had been having those skittish, frightened little urges to bolt for years when it came to coming out.

 

That Essie had guessed mere weeks after meeting her; that Amethyst had figured it out—neither of these things _mattered_ , even though both women had been nothing but receptive. They weren’t Garnet. They hadn’t slept in her bed on summer nights in nothing but their underwear, and they hadn’t been there for the first humiliating time she had tried to insert a tampon. They didn’t have a lifetime of history with her, with her sisters, with her _parents_. Garnet knew her almost _too_ well, and yet…

 

And yet she hadn’t ever told her.

 

She was still scared.

 

Pearl was visibly agitated, even as Garnet removed her sunglasses and casually set them on the bedside desk. She worried her lower lip until it went red, and Garnet could see the gears churning behind her pale blue eyes, a million miles away. Her best friend waited several seconds, with the patience of a saint, to let her speak first. Pearl didn’t, and Garnet sighed faintly to reign her attention back in.

 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Garnet said at length, and the fencer looked up at her, startled and wide-eyed and clearly unsure of what to say. Without thinking of it, Garnet combed her fingers through Pearl’s short, mussed hair, still damp from splashing water on her face minutes earlier. She tried to smile. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong, but if you don’t want to tell me—“

 

“It’s not that,” Pearl blurted out. She clenched her fists and pressed her knees together hard enough that it hurt. “I—I don’t _not_ want to tell you. That’s not the problem.”

 

Perplexed, Garnet said nothing, but rather than press her luck, she scooted a little closer. Pearl stiffened, and Garnet withdrew her hand from her hair.

 

“Sorry,” she said softly, and Pearl shook her head vehemently. Still, Garnet dropped her hand to the comforter between them instead. “I know you get overwhelmed sometimes.”

 

Overwhelmed was a nice, tactful way to describe what Pearl could only imagine was analogous to a computer shorting out from a power surge. The world became too bright, too loud, too _much_ for her to handle, sometimes. Garnet was the most mindful person she’d ever met about her anxiety. But this wasn’t anxiety, and overwhelmed wasn’t an accurate description of her _current_ problem. She didn’t know that she could put that into words. Garnet’s touch wasn’t unwelcome, exactly, but right now…

 

Right now, Pearl didn’t know if Garnet would want to be the one touching _her_.

 

Garnet had two mothers, and they were unambiguously the sweetest, most enamored couple that Pearl had ever seen. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that Garnet—out of anyone she knew, anyone she’d ever met—wasn’t the type to be homophobic, or to change her opinion on a dime. She wasn’t like Yvette, who was loud about her opinions and sometimes hurt people without thinking. She wasn’t like Belle, who silently judged and neither forgave nor forgot.

 

But Pearl had tried to keep it secret for so long that it almost felt like she had been perpetuating a lifelong lie, buried deep beneath everything she should have been. She wasn’t honest or brave or amazing like Garnet was, despite years of trying to emulate her best friend. Right now, all she felt was her smallness, spinning around, as her thoughts raced, like some kind of carnival teacup ride.

 

“It’s stupid,” Pearl muttered, scrunching her eyes shut against the disapproving look she knew Garnet would be giving her. She crossed her ankles and tucked her thumbs into her fists. “I—I can’t explain what happened without explaining something else, and I… I’m scared. I’m _terrified_. I have so many what ifs, so many worst-case scenarios in my head, and if even one of them were true, I don’t know what I’d do—“

 

“Breathe,” Garnet said soothingly, no less confused. Actually, Pearl’s tirade illuminated approximately nothing, but she knew not to say so. “Breathe with me. It might help.”

 

Meditation and breathing exercises were tantamount to calming down from a panic, and Pearl was no stranger to either. Still, it took her a few moments to unclench her hands, and when she did there were telltale crescent marks where her nails had dug into her palms.

 

She threaded her fingers together, settled them palm-up in her lap, and drew in a trembling breath. Beside her, Garnet did the same, and they both held their breaths for several seconds before exhaling as one. Rinse, repeat. Pearl felt her heart slow with her even breathing to a more reasonable pace, and the world seemed to smooth out at the edges just a little.

 

It was now or never.

 

“I fell for another woman.”

 

Garnet’s breathing stuttered, and Pearl was afraid to look. She held her breath against the prickling of tears at the corners of her eyes. Pearl stared down at her pink blankets and socks, and she managed to speak just a little louder. “I… she’s tall, and she’s beautiful, and wonderful, and she makes me _incredibly_ stupid. I fantasized about the silliest things. I don’t even know her, Garnet, but I imagined—“ There, the tears spilled over, and Pearl hiccupped and tried to wipe them on her shoulder without untangling her hands. “I’m stupid. I’m so stupid! She’s getting married, and she’s _pregnant_ , and she’s my professor! But oh, God, Garnet, it was so easy to imagine… I never had a chance, I never _would,_ but I got so swept up being _stupid_!”

 

“You’re not stupid.” Garnet’s voice was tight with an emotion Pearl didn’t have the presence of mind to guess at.

 

“I’m _profoundly_ stupid,” Pearl insisted, and her laugh was empty and full of heartbreak. “I thought—it was so easy to fall for her, I thought surely, _surely_ she would reciprocate if I ever told her, but I never, ever would have, and—but oh, first I’d have to impress her, do well in her class, graduate, and then it wouldn’t be an illicit little affair we’d have to hide—so, _so_ stupid, Garnet…”

 

“Pearl…”

 

It was abundantly clear that Garnet didn’t know what to say to that, and Pearl didn’t blame her, not really. They had equal amounts of experience where romance was concerned—which was to say, none at all—and she would hardly have blamed her best friend for being _angry._ Instead, she just sounded sad. Pearl sniffled, tipping her head back to stare instead at the fluorescent lights in her ceiling. Staring into them hurt, but it was better than staring at _pink_.

 

“I should have told you months ago,” Pearl mumbled, trying to keep her voice steady. Another miserable laugh bubbled up in her throat, and she scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and doubled in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I should’ve told you _years_ ago! Garnet—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to keep a secret like this from you, but I didn’t know how to tell you, and… and…”

 

“Pearl, it’s _fine_ —don’t be sorry! I…” she stumbled then, trying to find her words without luck. It did sting that Pearl hadn’t trusted her with this, but really, Garnet couldn’t blame her; she hadn’t been forthright either.

 

Her throat went dry, and she tried to swallow her own nervousness.

 

“I know what it’s like,” she managed, feeling heat suffuse her cheeks. “I’ve been in love with a girl before, too. I—it’s okay. I know it’s scary. I know it’s—I didn’t want to tell you, either, I don’t blame you at all. It’s okay.”

 

The startled look Pearl pierced her with was hardly reassuring, but it softened to something else briefly, and suddenly Pearl was hugging her best friend with all her strength, and Garnet nearly toppled backwards into the collage of photos pinned to Pearl’s bedside corkboard. She wasn’t sure if Pearl was laughing, or if she were sobbing, but Garnet didn’t have to think twice to wrap her arms around her back, and Pearl didn’t get to see the beginnings of tears in her friend’s warm brown eyes.

 

This was good enough for now. There was no need to confess just who she had fallen in love with or when, not if Pearl was reeling from rejection.

 

It wasn’t as if Garnet were going anywhere, after all.


End file.
